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"I do not know," I said. "I wear the talmit!" she said. "Yes, Mistress," I said. "How annoying and contemptible I found you," she said, "laughing and smiling, so pretentiously suave, so fraudulently refined, so feignedly clever, so aristocratically chatting and gossiping, so pointlessly sparkling, so calling attention to yourself, so posing and posturing, so carrying on, and, too, so irritatingly and prescribedly slender, just as the fashion magazines would require, so pert and trim, so well-dressed, so tasteful, so refined, so chic, not a hair out of place, your makeup invariably subtle, scarcely existing, and perfect, looking about, over your shoulder, those glances, what an actress, your little movements, flirting with the boys, leading them on, amusing yourself at their expense, rebuffing them when your sport was done". "Were we all so different," I asked, "even Mistress?" "You were pretty," she said, "but petty, too, and empty, shallow, a nothing, a sly, selfish, cunning, opportunistic, calculating, vain, egotistical, little chit. And how popular you were with the boys, and, oh yes, how aware of it you were! How many envied you!" "Surely as many, or more, envied you," I said. "What a match, with such delightful charms, might you not have garnered for yourself". - (Conspirators of Gor)